promises
by empresslanfan
Summary: Lan Fan makes Ling a promise. (p2 of Childhood In Xing)


Part two! This takes place two months before the Xingese trio leaves for Amestris.

* * *

Lan Fan could still remember the day Ling Yao told her he was going to be emperor.

They were barely thirteen and wrapped in expensive silk, swathed in imperial robes for his mother's birthday. It had only been days since Lan Fan was named his personal guard; seared to his side by an oath and a promise. Lan Fan gave her life to him and in return he gave her a grin and a painful thump in her heart.

Lan Fan thought it was a fair trade, considering.

She watched him as he fumbled with his robes, fidgeting and grumbling as his mother made her way through party guests like a natural.

"Laaaaan Faaaan," his voice was pitched, still not reaching the peak of puberty but getting there. "Can we sneak out?" She glared, puffing out her cheeks.

"No," she said sternly. "It's your mother's birthday; you can't just leave."

"But it's boring."

"No."

"I can just leave without you, you know."

"My Lord, behave," she sighed, pushing her hair back from her face. She straightened her back at the sight of her grandfather looking at her through the throng of people, raising an eyebrow. She would show him her years of training were not in vain; she was the perfect warrior. Agile, clever, graceful, fluid. Loyal. At least that trait she was sure of; she'd lay her life on the life for this whining boy.

"It's not like she cares whether I'm here or not," he whispered and she raised her head sharply, frowning. Now she had found the real source of the problem: he and his mother had fought. They fought frequently and fiercely; the kind of arguments that are more dead stares than actual words. The kind that she couldn't hear from her room a few feet down from his but she could see in the way they passed each other, arms stiff, eyes forward.

Lan Fan did not know what it was like to have a mother but sometimes she liked to pretend Ling's mother, lithe and sharp, was something of the sort to her. Her parents had died merely a year after her birth in a fight with a rival clan, leaving her to the care of her grandfather. He was a soldier and already past his prime, but he saw the skill in her fingers and put her in the academy as soon as she was able to competently hold a sword. And there she met Ling Yao, who was training in basic martial arts.

She had seen him in town, at parties, gatherings that usually involved the whole clan. But he was royalty, the son of the clan's concubine, and so, they were too far removed from each other's reach to actually interact, until the training grounds. There, they were equals. In fact, Lan Fan would argue she surpassed him quickly enough, once she found his weak spots and learned how to evade his hits without ever actually getting near him. What she had in speed he made up for in wit, because he knew when to distract her so that they both ended up panting, throwing rocks at each other, laughing into the sand.

Soon enough, Fuu spoke to his mother about assigning Lan Fan to the young Prince's guard. At first she had been outraged, a girl to protect her son, but she agreed once he said he'd be assisting her. The day they received the news they snuck away from their training session (if anyone asked, Lan fan had been adamantly against it) and hidden in the forest, grappling across trees and eating the sweets he had sneaked from the kitchen. From there, they became nearly inseparable.

"Please," he took her hand and she sighed, shoving it away with a light hiss. They were not children anymore; any sort of intimacy between them would cause rumor to spread like wildfire. She was old enough to hear the gossip among the cooks, catch the whispers behind the fans of noble woman. It was strange enough that Prince Yao had a female for a guard; it was another thing altogether that they had been friends since childhood and has a strange affinity to finish each other's sentences. Lan Fan refused to add fuel to an already burning fire.

"Fine," she conceded and gently pushed him towards the alcove near the back. He grinned brightly and tumbled outside, ignoring the way his robes dragged across the dirt.

"My Lord, we can't stay out for long."

"Are you always going to be by my side?" Ah, he was choosing to ignore her.

"Of course; I'm your guard."

"And if you weren't? Would you stay by my side?" She blinked.

"But I am so there's no point in asking that question." Ling Yao grinned suddenly and then, she felt even more confused.

"Stop laughing at me," she growled and he lifted his hands.

"I'm not laughing, really," he promised. "I just wanted to make sure. I want you there when I become Emperor." This was not the first time she had heard something that extent. He always said his fantasies aloud: how he'd ban leeks when he was King, how he'd throw grand parties, how he'd pull the soldiers out of their battalions, how he'd dismantle the concubine system. But this time, she saw the look on his face and the set in his jaw and so, she did not laugh like she usually did.

"Of course I will be there, my Lord." He took her hand and this time, she let him linger.

"Promise?"

"Of course." She didn't understand the flicker in his eyes, for she thought her loyalty was unquestionable, after all these years. But she didn't press and he didn't push and they stared at each other for a moment before he spoke.

"Good, thank you, Lan Fan."

And that is why she felt no regret lying on this surgery table, towel clenched between her teeth, the sound of her screams distant even though she knew they came from her mouth. She would be by his side when he became Emperor, for the Xingese always honor their promises.


End file.
